


maybe this is a sign that i'm all out of luck

by capomerica



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anti Lavender Brown Bashing, Bisexual Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hermione Granger-centric, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Internalized Misogyny, Lavender Brown Lives, Lesbian Pansy Parkinson, Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Past Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28072203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capomerica/pseuds/capomerica
Summary: hermione granger is smart and brave and not very pretty but it is okay because she is trying to survive in a world that doesn’t want her very much. she is trying so so hard to beat fate, but we all know lady fate doesn’t listen to requests.-in which hermione granger falls in love with the girl who will never stop running
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. do you believe in fate?

Hermione Granger was a prefect - that was her job and she knew it, so why was Ron so determined to undermine her? They were both equally responsible for their duties, and just because he was a boy didn’t mean he was owed more respect than her. 

So here she was, leaving Ron alone to patrol the halls by himself, while she actually got work done on her patrol. She walked down the hall crossly, hoping he could tell just how upset she was, but as soon as she turned the corner she relaxed, letting the tension fall from her body.

She wouldn’t let Ron see her cry, she just wouldn’t! He wasn’t allowed to have that much power over her. He was just so frustrating, and try as she might, the tears finding themselves in her eyes wouldn’t listen to her pleas as they slowly slipped down her face.

At this point, Hermione was fairly sure she was far enough away from Ron that he wouldn’t be able to find her, at which she slipped down onto the ground, tucking her knees beneath her. 

She could see a portrait of Gilbert the Green looking down at her curiously, his coloured cap almost falling off his head as he peered down at her. In response, she raised her head and sent him the nastiest glare she could conjure up, wishing instead it was Ron that she was glaring at. She instantly felt guilty as the elderly man disappeared, leaving the picture a landscape of a field. 

Hermione bit her lip, wondering how she could let a boy of all things make her feel this way. She didn’t like anyone having this much control over her, and Ron least of all, but it always seemed to be him that set her off. Harry never really did, but then again, Harry tended to avoid conflict with his friends. Ron however, seemed quite the opposite. His temper matched his hair, both always on fire, and thoroughly uncontrollable. The only person who seemed to be able to control him was Lavender, though Hermione would never admit that to anyone.

Lavender Brown. 

God, did Hermione ever hate her. After six long years of sharing a room, anyone would think the pair would be a little closer than they were, but Hermione despised her. All girls were the same to Hermione really, they were all obsessed with boys, and makeup, and dumb girly things. There was a reason nobody took them seriously. And, it was because of girls like Lavender and Parvati and Cho and even Ginny, that Hermione had to work ten times harder to prove she was just as good as any boy. 

Even Hermione’s friends were obsessed with girls, Ron was barely ever without his new girlfriend, and anyone with a brain could see just how obsessed Harry was with a certain red-headed Weasley. Hermione seemed to be the only person her age these days who didn’t act like a girl and wasn’t absolutely obsessed with them. 

She sighed, bumping her head back against the wall behind her. Hermione didn’t even know what to do with all this, she didn’t know what to say to Ron or how to deal with this, or how she was supposed to be reacting to the actual war that was brimming around them. 

Just as she was letting all her anxieties take hold, the clipped noise of heels began from down the hall. Hermione raised her head, adjusting her prefect badge as she got ready to shoo some first year back into their dorm. 

As she stood, the noise grew louder, and as she cast a lazy lumos, through the darkness she could see Pansy Parkinson, walking like she was having a leisurely stroll. After hours. In the Gryffindor hallways. Her black hair was silky smooth, not a hair out of place, and upset Hermione for no reason other than the fact that she seemed to never put any effort into anything, and yet she still looked perfect.

“Parkinson what are you doing here?” Hermione asked, holding her wand out in front of her. She couldn’t trust any of Malfoy’s gang these days, even if she didn’t believe Harry’s half thought-out Death Eater story.

The other girl grinned, light glinting off her teeth. They were so white, and pointy. Hermione tried to hide the shiver that went through her, it wasn’t like Parkinson was a werewolf. Or a vampire. She was just a girl with very sharp teeth and even sharper nails.

“You’re not supposed to be up here.” Hermione announced, her voice stronger this time. As much as Parkinson maybe scared her a little bit, she was still just a girl, and didn’t even have her wand on her - from what Hermione could see. 

“I had an invitation,” Parkinson finally said, in a soft voice that made Hermione sure she was mocking her, she just hadn’t really figured out how. 

“From who?” Hermione asked flatly, still staring at her. Which Gryffindor in their right mind would invite a Slytherin into the dorm after hours, not any that Hermione knew. 

“Now wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Yes actually, I would.” Hermione replied, pausing as she furrowed her eyebrows at the Slytherin, “I’m on patrol right now Parkinson, and you better have a good reason to be up here, or it’s detention for you.” 

Parkinson regarded Hermione, her eyes sweeping up and down Hermione’s figure, and Hermione knew that the other girl was judging her, sizing her up. She felt naked under Parkinson’s stare, almost sure that in that swift moment, she had somehow managed to find out all of Hermione’s weaknesses and insecurities.

“You can’t.” Parkinson replied swiftly, and just as fast, she tapped sharply on something pinned to the bottom of her skirt.

On closer examination, Hermione realized it was her prefect badge, pinned to the hem of her skirt, which really wasn’t in uniform, they were supposed to be explicitly obvious, pinned over the heart. 

“I’m sure Professor McGonagall would have something to say about a Slytherin stalking about the Gryffindor halls in the dark after curfew.” Hermione said, at this point not even trying to hide the glare she pointed at the other girl. 

“But I was with Draco all night? You must’ve confused me with someone else?” Parkinson said, tilting her head as she continued in that soft voice of hers that reminded Hermione of muggle actresses from the 50s. 

“You really can’t think that that would work.” Hermione replied, understanding what Parkinson was trying to insinuate.

Parkinson grinned, and Hermione couldn’t help feeling reminded of a snake, all sneaky and full of lies. 

“Are you crying?” Parkinson asked, stepping closer to Hermione, her smile growing wider by the second. 

Hermione wiped her cheek with her sleeve, playing it off like she was itching her cheek. “No. Of course not, don’t be daft. It's just the light.” She shot back, refusing to let Parkinson see any sort of weakness, though she felt that the action may be in vain.

“Aw, is the stress of school too much for you? It’s really not your fault, I mean you’re a m-“ Parkinson stopped, both her and Hermione distracted by the loud bang seemingly coming from down the hall. Hermione wanted to laugh, that truly was what Ron got, but she already knew what word Parkinson was about to call her, and she really didn’t want to hear it right now. 

Parkinson turned back to Hermione, not giving the sound any more thought, “As I was saying, you’re practically a muggle, you’ve got the blood in your veins, you’re just not prepared for all this stress.” Parkinson pursed her lips, as if Hermione was an insolent child. 

Hermione was slightly taken aback because yes, it was insulting, but she was somewhat surprised Parkinson hadn’t taken that moment to call her mudblood. Though she supposed it wasn’t impressive for someone to not say a slur one time, she was probably just preparing to say something even meaner. 

Hermione didn’t honour Parkinson’s statement with a reply, it was both biologically and metaphorically innacurate. Muggle-borns had no predisposed weaknesses, other than culture-wise, than Purebloods did, and Hermione hadn’t even been crying due to stress, Parkinson really was wrong on all fronts.

Just as Parkinson finally began starting to leave - what Hermione had been waiting for, a high pitched giggle drew her attention away. Coming from the same direction as the earlier bang, a couple were laughing, and Hermione was fully ready to give the pair detention, until of course Ron started down the hallway with Lavender on his arm. 

Parkinson looked between Hermione and Ron quickly, a bemused expression on her face, and if Hermione wasn’t upset before, she most certainly was now. 

As Ron approached them, recognition dawned on his face as he got a good look on Parkinson, and his features seemed to light up in anger.

“Hermione? Is this Slytherin bothering you?” Ron asked, and Hermione couldn’t fault him for his anger, if she was in his position she would probably do the same, however if Parkinson had been bothering her, it would’ve been nice for her Prefect partner to have been there five minutes earlier.

“I don’t know Ron, is she?” Hermione said dryly, unwilling to allow her friend any slack. He had been doing god knows what with Lavender Brown, and now suddenly decided to show up, to play the knight in shining armour? Hermione could take care of herself, thank you very much.

Ron seemed confused, looking at Hermione expectantly, obviously wanting the go-ahead to do something about it. Lavender however, was holding Ron’s hand without a care in the world, her pink coloured eyelids half closed as she waited for them to be done.

“Ron, stop trying to defend me!” Hermione spat, knowing Ron would be whiplashed from the change of pace, “I can take care of myself! Not that you would be any help anyway, when you’ve got her slowing you down.”

Lavender seemed not to clue in that Hermione was insulting her, which Hermione was eternally grateful for - she didn’t need a week of her roommates glaring and whispering about her because Ron was making her cross. 

“I wasn’t trying to-! What?!” Ron exclaimed, looking between Hermione and Parkinson in outrage. His face was a touch red, but Hermione figured that was probably due to whatever he and Lavender had been up to prior to this.

“I’m sorry Ronald, but while you were off snogging your girlfriend, I am trying to actually do my job!” Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. Lavender had the common sense to look ashamed, glancing down at the ground. 

Ron blinked a couple times, sending a spike of victory through Hermione as he struggled to comprehend what she was saying. Before long, he clued in, shooting Hermione a hot glare and marching off back to where he had come, which Lavender held tightly in his hand. As he was leaving, Lavender looked back at Hermione, giving her a sad smile, but quickly following Ron when she saw the look on Hermione’s face. 

“Cruel.” Parkimson commented, watching Ron walk away, her head tilted to the side, her bob sliding down her neck. 

Hermione coughed in annoyance, unwilling to offer Parkinson any explanation at all for what had just occurred, she had been the one barging in on Gryffindor business anyway. 

“You know,” The Slytherin began, looking straight into Hermione’s eyes, pausing just long enough for her to feel uncomfortable, “I actually have changed my mind, I won’t be performing my business here after all.”

Hermione did want to know more, but she didn’t want to push it, it wasn’t like Parkinson was going to clue her in on what was happening. Instead, she allowed her to leave, allowing Hermione to finally have a much needed breath of air. 

She had now realized she was definitely in a fight with Ron, and maybe one with Lavender, and with that realization out of the way, she traipsed back to the Gryffindor Common Room, ready for a good night's sleep, or as good as it could get, what with all the hubbub.


	2. words only get through if they're sharp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Managing to post a chapter within a week and a day? That is very unlike me plz do not get used to it

Hermione sat in Potions class, biting her lip as she allowed a sharp glare in Ron’s direction. Next to her, Lavender was being thankfully quiet, most likely due to all the cold gazes Hermione had directed at her during class. 

Meanwhile, Ron and Harry has spent the entire class goofing off, using whatever Harry could find in his dumb book of his. The Half Blood Prince has been helping Harry through practically every Potions assignment they’d had; which Hermione, for what it mattered, thought was very unfair. 

She glanced on their Potion, it was green, and slightly shimmering, a striking difference to her and Lavender’s yellow-coloured mixture. Hermione knew this was just because they were ahead of the girls in the making of the potion, but it still made her upset. If she had gotten the book, she was certain she would be at the same stage of her potion as the boys were.

Behind her, someone snickered, the quiet noise catching Hermione’s ears as she glanced behind her. There stood Parkinson, smirking at her as Malfoy seemed to be doing all the work on their potion, though it gave Hermione a small comfort that their potion was remarkably similar to hers. Hermione hated Malfoy, that was certain, but Potions was one of the few classes that she was second in the class in, with Malfoy in first. Well- not anymore, now that Harry had the answers to everything in that book of his.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, glaring at Parkinson, though she still needed to be cautious. She never knew what a Slytherin could have up their sleeve, especially in a class full of dangerous ingredients, anything could happen. 

“Well I mean, your lovers quarrel is really the centre stage of this classroom right now.” Parkinson said, tilting her head as her dark eyes drifted to Ron. Hermione followed her gaze, frowning as she saw Ron and Harry working along happily. She hadn’t realized her glaring was so obvious, she had really just meant it for Ron to see.

“We’re not lovers.” Hermione spat, lip lifting as she began to sneer at the Slytherin. She couldn’t stand how Parkinson seemed to think that everything happening was her business, when it quite obviously wasn’t. 

Parkinson grinned wider when Hermione spoke, her words not affecting the other girl at all. “Well the way you’re burning him alive with your gaze seems to say otherwise.”

Parkinson fanned herself with her hand, mocking Hermione, which just made her madder. She clenched her fists, trying to take a breath to calm down, she would not let this get to her, it was just Parkinson being Parkinson, trying to get everyone all upset. 

“That. Is none of your business.” Hermione replied, wrinkling her nose as she glared at Parkinson. Of course the other girl thought everything was her business, she was practically a young Rita Skeeter. 

“Come on Granger,” Parkinson said, pursing her lips at Hermione, then fluttering her eyelashes, which Hermione knew was how she belittled practically everyone. “Your business has become the whole classroom’s business, the sexual tension is practically overheating our potions.”

Hermione knew there was no tension of any kind, and she was almost certain Parkinson knew the same, therefore the ridiculous assumption that the other girl had come up with, was something they both knew to be false. Which meant, of course, Parkinson was just doing it to mess with her. Hermione honestly wasn’t surprised at that specific fact though. 

“Parkinson.” Hermione started, going slower so the other girl could understand, “there is no tension between us whatsoever. If there were, it would still be absolutely none of your concern. Instead of trying to stir up gossip like the absolute snake you are, why don’t you work on your bloody potion!” She practically spat the last words, glaring at the Slytherin.

Hermione sat down, not bothering to see how Parkinson had reacted. She could feel Lavender’s gaze burning into her, and knew she had questions, none of which Hermione would answer, because it was nobody's business. As she calmed down, she could feel the gazes of the class, seeing Harry and Ron looking at her through the corner of her eye. She groaned, grabbing a spoon as she tried to focus on the potion once more. 

Hermione’s cheeks were heating up, and she was more than aware that her little outburst had been far louder than what she intended. She meant every word of it, but she didn’t want the class to have seen her in such a state. 

She could see Professor Slughorn standing up, watching her closely. He walked over to her, with usual slow rocking steps, until he stopped in front of her desk. Hermione looked up, hoping her embarrassment was obvious on her face, she truly hadn’t meant to cause a scene.

“Miss Granger? What happened here?” The professor asked, his eyebrow seeming to jump up and down, not knowing what expression he was supposed to be taking on. 

Hermione sighed, stirring her potion once more, trying not to allow her emotions to overtake her judgment. 

“Parkinson she- well she’s been bothering me all class, and I didn’t know what to do.” Hermione finally said, biting her lip. 

She glanced behind her, as someone else spoke up, catching the glance of a Draco Malfoy who seemed entirely too tired for the boy she had once punched. 

“It’s really Granger’s fault, she’d been distracting Pansy.” Malfoy said, his cold gaze seeming to go right through Hermione.

“It wasn’t! It was Parkinson’s fault!” Lavender spoke up, from beside Hermione, which she had not been expecting. Lavender shot her a shy smile, thought it was a wavering one at that. 

Slughorn sighed, rubbing his forehead. Despite whatever he may have been trying to portray, Hermione knew he was trying to make sense of the situation, as minutes ago he had been half asleep at his desk. 

“Miss Parkinson, do you have anything to do for yourself?” Slughorn sighed, gesturing loosely at Parkinson. He obviously had not quite woken up yet.

Pansy just shrugged, a close lipped smile dancing on her face that truly infuriated Hermione. How dare she! She had just caused a whole bunch of problems for the pair and she didn’t even look the slightest bit apologetic. 

Slughorn sighed again, it was really becoming a pattern at this point. “Well girls, it looks like since the situation is so split I’ll have to punish you both.”

“No sir! That’s not fair, it was her fault!” Hermione spluttered, gesturing wildly at Parkinson. 

“Miss Granger. From what I heard from over there, it was all you. So unless you want to make it worse for yourself, I would advise you to stop complaining.” Slughorn said, Hermione shrunk down under his gaze. “Now, ten points each from Slytherin and Gryffindor, and detention tomorrow night, in my office at eight.” 

As much as Hermione desperately wanted to argue her point, she knew well enough when she needed to shut up, and this was one of those few occasions where she would. 

“Aw, looks like you got yourself in trouble Granger,” Parkinson’s telltale murmur came from behind her, just as Slughorn was beginning to walk away.

Hermione decided not to look back, she wouldn’t give Parkinson the satisfaction of getting what she wanted. She kept her head straight, but she could see Lavender’s worried look pointed at her.

Just as everything was settling down, and Hermione was just about finishing the potion, the yellow had managed to swirl into an emerald green - although the shine that sparkled from Harry’s potion didn’t seem to quite match Hermione - Parkinson suddenly whispered again, from behind her.

“Mmm, not even in the top of the class anymore, I wonder what that’s got to feel like for you.” Parkinson tutted, and Hermione was certain she could feel Parkinson’s smirk.

That was most certainly the last straw, and Hermione just didn’t want to hold it in anymore, but what she didn’t know was that she was about to create a chain of events that would change her semester.

“Bloody hell Parkinson, can you just shut up!” Hermione shouted, whipping her head around to face her. 

Hermione could feel the silence like a knife, as the class all stopped shuffling and cutting and talking to face them. Parkinson, for once in her life looked surprised, although Malfoy was smirking. 

Hermione looked around, catching Harry’s worried glance, and Ron’s impressed one, and she couldn’t help feeling a tiny surge of confidence that had impressed him. However the rest of the class obviously didn’t feel the same.

“Hermione Granger!” Came a shout, as Slughorn stood up quicker than Hermione had ever seen him move before. She sat up in her chair, trying to look like the model student, as if that could make up for what she had just done. 

“This behaviour is absolutely inappropriate! Out!” Slughorn shouted, pointing at the door. Hermione was not prepared to be kicked out, she hadn’t thought Slughorn had the backbone for it, but she sighed and picked up her things.

She grabbed her bag, pulling it over her shoulder, and shot a small wave towards Harry and Ron as she left. She tensed up, hearing Parkinson’s giggling as she left.

“You too Parkinson! Out!” Slughorn shouted, causing Hermione to turn, surprised. “Anybody else want to leave too?” Slughorn continued, shouting, his face was turning wet, and he pulled his handkerchief out as he began dabbing his forehead.

Hermione took that moment to leave, hoping that Parkinson would take a little longer to get out, so they didn’t have to bump into each other. Unfortunately, Hermione’s luck today seemed to be nonexistent, as the Slytherin bumped into her - literally in fact.

Parkinson, who was apparently running? For whatever reason? Ran smack dab into Hermione, sending them both sprawling on the ground. Hermione glared at the other girl warily from her spot on the ground, her bag had slid across the floor and her two textbooks were open beside her. It was far unlike Parkinson to be clumsy in any way, and if Hermione didn’t know better she would’ve assumed she had bumped into her on purpose. 

“Why are you so intent on bothering me?” Hermione asked, grabbing her her book as she crawled onto her knees.

Parkinson shrugged, standing up as she tugged her skirt down. It had come rather far up, and Hermione averted her eyes. “Oops. I tripped.”

Hermione looked at Parkinson expectantly, but got no answer, scowling as she picked up her second book. 

Parkinson, on the other hand, seemed to slowly pick up her books, bending at the waist each time - in front of Hermione, a full view of her backside every time she leaned over.

Hermione felt her face heating up, and she scurried over to pick up her bag, not looking over again.

“Did I make you uncomfortable, Granger?” Parkinson asked, walking over to her, her steps as slow as everything Parkinson seemed to do. 

Hermione sighed, looking up at the ceiling, “well I figured you didn’t mean for me to practically see inside you.” Hermione stopped, realizing what she said sounded far more dirty than she had meant it. 

“God I was just trying to be polite!” She spluttered, as Parkinson continued staring at her.

“Hm.” Parkinson said, passing Hermione the bag she had been trying to get, before Parkinson started bothering her. 

Hermione grabbed the bag quickly, not saying anything, she didn’t want to embarrass herself more than she already had that day. She was almost certain the Slytherin common room would get a whole story time that night, as Parkinson retold every move Hermione had made. 

Hermione spun on her heel, she hoped she could get to the library in time to study, she had a test next period that she wanted to review for. She was dreading the detention she would be having the next day, unprepared for whatever nasty scheme Parkinson would manage to think up.


End file.
